The 43rd Hunger Games
by Ashweynicole
Summary: My first story and my first time writing a Hunger Games! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Just a dream

I'm being chased through the woods—the air foggy and thick, making it hard to breath, and the sun beating down, causing me too sweat and tire quickly—by another tribute who wields an ax.

Unfortunately, they're a faster runner than me and it's easy for them to decrease the distance between us. Since outrunning them is not an option I decide to find a tree to climb—I just hope they can't climb too. It's not really the smartest option, but I'm running on pure adrenaline and the fact that I could die right now.

I see a tree a few yards ahead with branches low enough for me to reach and power myself a little harder—it's not enough to get away though. The other tribute is right on my heels and yanks my hair hard. I yelp in pain and draw my knife—I was saving it for a moment like this; to take them by surprise. I turn slightly to the side and stab it forward hitting they're stomach, but not deep enough to cause fatal damage. It does slow them down though and I run as fast as I can for the tree.

I reach the trunk and push with my feet—and pull with my hands—as hard as I can; climb faster than I've ever climbed before. I'm about eight feet up when I feel a severe pain in my right leg. I look down at it and find an ax in it, blood pouring fast from the wound. I scream, so hard my lungs feel like they're on fire, out of pain and fear.

It is, at that moment, I wake and shoot straight up in my bed. I'm sweating buckets even though it's freezing in my house. I rip off the covers and run my hand over my leg—perfectly intact. _It was just a dream_, I tell myself over and over, _but it felt so real_.


	2. Chapter 2: Wouldn't miss it

I sleep through the rest of the night without any more nightmares. It's no wonder, though, that I had a dream like that considering what today is. The reaping. I've been dreading it for three years now and will continue to dread it for four more. Sometimes I wish my nineteenth birthday would just come already and I wouldn't have to live in fear.

But since there's nothing I can do about it I push all those thoughts from my head—my nightmare too—and decide to get ready. I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth and hair and bathe as quickly as possible. I rummage through my closet and find a simple green dress, perfect to match my eyes.

I know I shouldn't because it's futile, but I actually care about my appearance unlike most girls from District six.

I put it on, along with a matching ribbon braided into my hair. I check myself in the dusty, old mirror on the far side of my room—a luxury here in six.

One good thing, I guess, about where I live, is that my father is the mayor. I've never been hungry, poorly dressed, and I get most of what I want. Except, he never has time for me.

"Ellie," I hear my mother call my name from downstairs. "Hurry, the reaping's in an hour!" I rush downstairs and find breakfast on the table and my mother and father eating it.

I'm not really close with my mother as she's always focusing on my dad. Also, I like to spend my time alone. But that doesn't mean I don't know them—I do, like the back of my hand.

My father is reading the newspaper, but puts it down when I sit at the table, probably to have some long conversation. _Fun._

"Ellie, listen, there are thousands of slips in the bowl; only 3 have your name on them. There is no reason for you to be nervo-"

"I'm _not_ nervous dad!" I say, rolling my eyes at him.

"Honey, we heard you crying in your sleep," my mother looks at me pitifully.

"So? It was just a stupid dream," I mutter, needing to remind myself.

"So, we wanted to make sure you were okay," my father says picking his newspaper up again.

_Yeah, you guys sure care about me_. He can't even pay attention to me for five minutes. And if they really cared, they would have come into my room last night while I was crying.

"Whatever," I get up and leave the house, not bothering to look at them. There are little trees in district six, something even we weren't fortunate enough to get. But they keep them in a park five minutes from my house which is where I walk now. It's empty when I get there; everyone's probably getting ready for the reaping. Which is why I don't feel bad for what I'm about to do in a dress.

I climb the tallest—and my favorite—tree and look out at the district. It's quite ugly, district six. Mostly grey because all we do is create transportation. No need for beauty, I suppose.

I can see the Hall of Justice and the children beginning to fill in their age sections. Not many in the '15' section yet. If I did get picked, though, would I really miss my district? I've never really favored it. I have no real friends and no boys have interest in me. I bet, being a victor, people would love me. Especially in the Capitol; so many pretty colors, elaborate clothing, parties all night. Surely people would understand me there?

Suddenly getting picked doesn't seem so bad.


	3. Chapter 3: The Reaping

"Welcome citizens of District six!" says my father as the reaping begins. "Thank you for coming out today. Now, to begin, I shall read the Treaty of Treason."

And so it begins, him reading off the never ending treaty. I think I begin to fall asleep, because when a woman's squeaky voice echoes across the square, I gasp and cover my ears.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Minnie and I'm greatly honored to be your escort!" she giggles when she finishes. She's dressed in an elaborate purple dress with a big purple butterfly headband. "Now I don't want to keep you waiting, so, without further a due, ladies first!"

She crosses over to the girls bowl—her four-inch heels clacking while she does—and reaches a slim hand inside. She digs all the way to the bottom and pulls out a slip.

_This is it_, I think and hold my breath.

She reads out, "Caroline Downey." I hear a sharp intake of breath from behind me. I turn around to see a little girl with pigtails and tears in her eyes slowly step out of the twelve year old section. Somewhere in the crowd a woman begins weeping. "Ah, Caroline, come on up! Don't be shy!" says Minnie, motioning with her hands for Caroline to come towards her.

_She doesn't deserve this_, I think, a frown forming on my face. _She'll certainly die, this is unfair_.

Before I can think of what I'm doing, I shout "I volunteer!" and step out in front of Caroline; a lot of the adults gasping and murmuring as I do.

"A volunteer? How lovely! Come on up, dear!" says Minnie, holding a hand out for me.

After a quick glance over my shoulder at Caroline, who looks very shocked, I walk shakily to the steps. I may be bigger and older than Caroline, but I have no skills with weapons; all I can do is a climb tree. I just hope the arena's filled with them or I'm screwed.

"What is your name?" asks Minnie once I'm up on stage next to her.

"Ellie Grace," I mutter.

"Well, Ellie, we appreciate your courage!" Minnie giggles once again in her annoying little way.

She says something about picking a boy, but I'm not really paying attention. I'm looking over at my father and mother, who both give me disapproving looks. Great, now I've disappointed them. Will I ever be good enough for them?

"Sam Manchester, if you would please come up," calls Minnie, snapping me back to attention.

I look out to the crowd and see a big, bulky guy stepping out of the seventeen's section and mounting the steps to stand on the other side of Minnie. Now I regret my decision even more knowing I'll have to face him in the arena.

"Go on, shake hands now," says Minnie to us both. He turns towards me with a sly smile on his mouth and holds a hand out; when we shake, his grip is strong. I'm really scared now.

"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" says Minnie, pushing us, lightly, into the justice building.

A guard escorts me into a room for visiting time, but before he leaves I ask him not to let anyone in. I really don't want to see my parents right now; they'll just make me feel worse. I'm already shaking with fear—literally—after seeing only one of my fellow competitors, imagine what I'll be like after seeing them all, especially the Careers.

Even though this may be my last opportunity to see my parents, I have to get to work on my strategy so I have a chance of winning.


	4. Chapter 4: Big Mistake

After waiting in the Justice building for what felt like forever, Minnie finally came to escort Sam and me to the train. We all boarded with two other people: our mentors.

I guess all the rumors of district six victors being addicted to morphine are true, because they had that look about them: yellowy, sagging skin, wide, round eyes, underfed. It was horrible to look at. They didn't even say anything just kind of stood there staring at us.

But that's fine, I figured out my strategy for the games, I don't need some druggie to tell me what to do.

Minnie showed Sam and me our rooms shortly after we boarded, and that's where I am now, changing for dinner. The selection of clothes just on the train is breathtaking. I wish we could have such nice things in district six.

I'm just changing into a crimson colored dress when I hear Minnie's obnoxious voice call out, "Dinner!"

I open my door to come face to face with Sam, who is dressed in a pair of khakis and a button up shirt. He nods at me and gestures for me to lead the way. I give him a funny look; why is he acting so nice? I would have expected someone like him to be rude and only focus on winning.

All of this leaves my mind, of course when I enter the dining room and realize I haven't eaten all day. And, oh my! The food they have is indescribable! Even at home we didn't have this luxurious feast. I sit at a long table and what looks like turkey is set in front of me. I dig right in and don't have to worry about conversation; it's pretty much just Minnie babbling about her Capitol friends.

After several courses, I'm finally as stuffed as a pig. We all go into the living room to watch the reaping recaps. It is now, I realize again, that this is the Hunger Games. Not some trip to the Capitol. I mentally sigh at how easily I was distracted.

And my fear returns sevenfold when I see the first tributes from district one. The girl isn't too bad; she looks similar to me but more attractive. What gets me though is the boy. If I thought Sam was big, this boy is bigger and more muscular. I'm shaking from fear as the reapings go on. Only a few more tributes stand out though: both from two, the girl from four, Sam, of course, the boys from seven and eight, and both from ten.

I hear someone laughing from my left, and turn to see Sam sitting on the couch next to me, grinning. "Don't be scared," he says. I realize how bad I'm shaking and wrap my arms around myself, an angry look forming on my face. He winks and walks away, leaving me alone in the room—I guess everyone left when I wasn't paying attention?

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. This looks like it will be even harder, now, with all these tough looking competitors.

Even though it's only seven other tributes I'm worried about, they could easily take me down.


End file.
